


Ridiculous Prompts

by p0ck3tf0x



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Romance, Slice of Life, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p0ck3tf0x/pseuds/p0ck3tf0x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ridiculous drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles were inspired by this prompt list (http://toxixpumpkin.tumblr.com/post/108022477839/ridiculous-sentence-prompts) by Toxixpumpkin on Tumblr.

**“Who wouldn’t be angry?  You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”**

“What,” Matthew blinked.  “The fuck.”

Gilbert grinned and slouched further and further down the cabinets until he was sitting on the tiles beside the refrigerator with a bowl of cereal in his lap.  The _last_ bowl.  He saluted Matthew lazily with his used spoon.

“Good morning!”

“The fuck?”  He repeated and rubbed his eyes.

“I know it’s early but I couldn’t sleep and, well, I thought…”

“You’re dead,” Matthew interrupted him.  “You’re dead, Gilbert.”

Gilbert rolled his shoulders and nonchalantly shovelled another spoonful of Lucky Charms into his mouth.

“Yeah, about that…”

Matthew darted forward and kneed Gilbert in the face.  

“You fucking asshole!”  He fisted his hair and pulled his head back when Gilbert tried to duck.  “What the fuck did you do?!”

The overturned bowl of cereal was soaking through the hem of his pajama pants but he did not even notice.

“Gee,” Gilbert laughed wetly around the blood dripping down his chin, “you seem kind of upset.”

Matthew kicked him again.

“Of course I am,” he growled.  “You ate all of my cereal and you’ve been presumed dead for three years.”

“The rumours of my death have been greatly…”

Matthew slammed his head into the cabinets, twice, before collapsing to his knees and cradling his face with both hands.

“I missed you, idiot,” he choked, “I thought you were dead.”

Gilbert softened, wiping at the blood with the back of his hand, and knocked their foreheads together.

“I know,” he muttered, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you.  Again.”

Gilbert kissed him viciously.

“I’d like to see you try.”


	2. Chapter 2

**"I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else."**

“Hey.  Hey, Matthew.  Hey, Matthew, wake up.”

Canada sat up and scrubbed at his eyes.

“Gilbert…?”

“I have something to tell you.”

Canada glanced at the glowing alarm on his bedside table and frowned.

“It’s four in the morning,” he said helplessly.  

“I know but…”

“And you’re naked.”

Prussia looked down at himself in surprise but he put his hands proudly on his hips instead of covering up.

“Huh,” he hummed, “I didn’t notice.”

Canada blushed and tried to stare anywhere but…  Right…  There.

“Okay, well, uh…”  He cleared his throat awkwardly.  “What did you need to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah, I wanted to tell you, well,” Prussia stepped closer and closer as he spoke and Canada flushed darker, “you’re really great and I really, really like you and I think that, uh, I might be in love with you.”

Canada held up his hands with a high pitched whine when Prussia started to crouch in front of him.

“I, uhm, I want to…  I like…  I’m sorry, Gilbert, but you’re going to have to put on some underwear before you say anything else.”

“Oh…”  

“But I might, uh, kind of love you too.”

And he may or may not have squealed when Prussia happily launched himself onto the bed and kissed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**“Quick, catch that cat!  It stole my wallet!”**

Matthew swerved around the corner with an outstretched hand and stumbled into a pale, handsome stranger in a three piece suit.  His briefcase skidded across the platform.

“Quick!  Catch that cat!”  Matthew panted against his chest.  “It stole my wallet!”

The man opened his mouth in surprise, closed it, and glanced behind him as the cat darted around another corner.  Then he suddenly grinned and took off at a sprint.  Matthew cursed under his breath and scooped up the forgotten briefcase.  

“ _This_ ,” the stranger shouted over his shoulder, “I want to hear _this_ story!”

“I’ll buy you a drink if you catch that cat!”

“Score,” he cackled delightedly.

The cat slipped under the turnstiles and through the crowd of commuters heading to work.  

“Fuck,” Matthew swore, desperately rifling through his pockets for his transit pass even as the stranger jumped the turnstile in a smooth, practiced movement.  

“You’re falling behind!”

“Oh shit, fuck,” Matthew muttered as he scrambled to follow him and twisted his ankle on the landing.  He tumbled and tucked into a roll.  By the time he had untangled himself, the man was standing over him with a petulant cat grasped in his hands.

The cat was still biting his wallet.

“You owe me a drink,” he said wryly and Matthew blushed.  He traded the cat for the briefcase and tugged his wallet out of its mouth.  The cat started purring.  “I really want to hear this one.”

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning,” Matthew mumbled as a weak excuse.  He was so embarrassed.  He was sweating and dishevelled but his saviour was still, somehow, impeccably put together.  

He chuckled.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he shrugged and offered his hand.  “My name is Gilbert.”

Matthew jostled the cat and clasped it.

“…  Matthew.”


	4. Chapter 4

**“Fuck, I feel like I got hit by a car… Wait I did? And it was your car?”**

“Fuck…” Gilbert moaned, pushing himself up and rubbing the back of his head.  “I feel like I was hit by a car…”

“Are you okay?!”

He blinked as a blonde rushed towards him and dropped to the pavement.  He was flushed with concern.  His hands fluttered around Gilbert without quite touching him.

He had wild, uncontrollable curls and chapped lips.

“Oh no,” Gilbert muttered under his breath when the blonde leaned into his personal space.  “You’re hot…”

“You’re bleeding!”

“I am?”

“Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding.  You’re bleeding.  I hit you with my car and you’re bleeding!”

Gilbert studied his hands and frowned when they came away red and sticky.  His head was bleeding.  A _lot_.  Huh.

“You did?”

“… I hit you and you’re bleeding…”

Gilbert lurched suddenly to the left and grinned recklessly when the blonde flinched.

“You should give me your number.  For insurance purposes,” he explained.  “Obviously.”

“…  I called an ambulance, of course.  They should be here in a couple of minutes.  You just need to…”

“And your name,” Gilbert continued, warming to the subject, “and the name of your favourite restaurant.  And you’ll have to tell me if you’re free tonight.”

He stopped waving his arms in panicked circles and stared.

“…  Are you…  Are you _hitting_ on me?”

Gilbert clapped his bloodied hands and cackled.

“You hit me first!”

“…  Oh, shit, I broke him,” he whined, dismayed, and held up three fingers.  “How many fingers am I holding up?  What’s your name?  Do you know where you are?”

“Gilbert.  Gilbert Beilschmidt.  And you are?”

“Matthew.  I am so, _so_ sorry.”

“That’s okay.  You can take me out for dinner.  As an apology.”

Matthew stuttered.

“You have to go to the hospital!”

“There is a cafeteria at the hospital,” he pointed out.  “You can buy me dinner there.  You kind of owe me.  Just saying.”

Matthew looked lost and bewildered and vaguely terrified.  It was adorable.  

“Okay!  Okay, just…  Stop moving.  The ambulance will be here in a minute.  You’re going to be fine.”

“I like Italian,” Gilbert intoned solemnly as he leaned against him.  The world was spinning.  Matthew choked on a startled laugh and wrapped an arm around him.

“Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

**“The skirt is short on purpose.”**

“Oh.  My gosh.”  

Prussia rolled his eyes and propped his hands on hips.

“C’mon.  It’s not that bad.”

Canada tugged uselessly on his shorter than short skirt and whined.

“It’s really short…”

“Look,” Prussia reached for the white bow around his waist and tightened it even as Canada fidgeted, “it’s supposed to be short.”

“But…”

“You lost the bet,” he reminded him with a suggestive smirk and fingered the lace crinoline of his maid uniform.  “So you have to do what I say.”

Canada flushed.

“I, uh, I understand why _I’m_ wearing a dress.  I just don’t understand why _you’re_ wearing one.”

Prussia glanced down at his own outfit.

“…  It makes me feel pretty,” he nodded decisively after a moment.  The blue, satin dress was rucked up around his waist and even shorter than the one Canada was wearing.  It showed off his legs.

“Oh,” Canada repeated.  “My gosh.”


	6. Chapter 6

**“I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people.”**

“You’re an asshole,” Matthew hissed as he fumbled with the drawstring of his sweatpants.  The Redcoats had thrown them into a satellite holding cell until the Bastille passed orbit.  They only had a couple of hours to escape.  “I can’t believe you got us into this mess.”

Gilbert leaned back on the cold metallic bench and shrugged lazily as he pried his eyelids open.  He plucked out his left eyeball.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

Matthew grumbled as he finally pulled the drawstring through and started stripping the synthetic filament.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck in…  In _space jail_ with you of all people.”

Gilbert tossed his eyeball into the air and caught it again with a flick of his wrist.  He stared at the red of his artificial irises and tried to remember what colour his eyes used to be.  

“You’re the one who wanted to move off planet.”

“This is _not_ what I had in mind.”

“But it worked.”

Matthew impatiently held out his hand and Gilbert tipped his eyeball into his palm.  

He exposed the thin, blue wire that had been concealed in the centre of his drawstring and peeled off the coating with his teeth.  He used the wire to poke the miniscule porthole on the back of the implant.

It opened like a flower.

He laughed triumphantly, holding it up, and Gilbert ducked forward to press a careless kiss to the side of his mouth.  

“It worked,” Matthew admitted reluctantly as he sorted through the microchips and neurons suspended in silicone.  He should be able to piece together an electronic skeleton key with the components.  “But we’re not out of the woods yet.”

Gilbert kissed him again.

“There is no one I would rather be stuck in space jail with.”


	7. Chapter 7

**“So why did I have to punch that guy?”**

“I hate pirates,” Matthew shouted, kicking his chair backwards and tripping the flailing man that rushed past them.  “I really do!”

Li Xiao raised an eyebrow.

“You _are_ a pirate,” Yong Soo laughed as he darted around another patron and rolled across the tavern.  His long sleeves dragged through the broken dishes but it did not seem to slow him down.

“Only sometimes!”

Yao muttered under his breath as he smacked one man, and then another, with the piece of timber he had ripped from the staircase.  Yong Soo skidded through his legs and pushed over a third man.  He whooped.

Li Xiao continued to sit unhelpfully on the bar and serenely kick his feet.

Their crew had stumbled into the tavern after three months at sea and directly into a bar fight.  It figured.  Vagabonds and beggars crossed swords with murderers and women in brilliant colours pulled up their petticoats to reveal the pistols and knives strapped to their thighs.

Matthew lunged to the left when someone pointed a blunderbuss at him and knocked another patron over as he went.

He almost missed the cutpurse that came up behind him.

“ ‘ey!” Matthew squawked, pointing at the thief and scrambling clumsily over the brawl, “ ‘ey!  Stop him!”

He was almost within arm’s reach when a stranger in a large, feathered hat came out of nowhere and decked the pickpocket.  

They went flying.

“Oh,” Matthew blinked.  He had not actually expected anyone to help.  There was no such thing as honour among thieves.  “Uh, thank you.  I guess.”

The stranger cracked his knuckles and grinned.

“So…  Why did I have to punch that guy…?”

“I didn’t expect you to _punch_ him,” Matthew mumbled, bending over to scoop up his silver, and flushing when the stranger cocked his head to stare at his buttocks.  “But I appreciate the thought.”

“I appreciate your ass,” he nodded casually.

Matthew blushed even brighter when Yong Soo cheered from across the tavern.  Li Xiao snorted.

He reeeally hated pirates.

“I, uhm, I’m Williams,” he held out his hand with a piece of silver in his palm as reparation.  “Thank you.  Again.”

“Beilschmidt,” he clasped his hand and refused to let go.  

“Uh…”

“So when do you sail next?”


	8. Chapter 8

**“I may have, accidentally, sort of adopted five cats.”**

Prussia kicked the door closed behind him and blinked.  And blinked again.

“Uhm…  Matthew?”  He called hesitantly up the staircase.  “Why, why is there a cat on the kitchen counter?”

“Just one?”  Canada shouted back.

“One…?”  Prussia mouthed as he jostled the groceries in his arms and nudged the ginger cat aside.  It meowed and flicked its tail in annoyance.  “What do you mean…?”

He stopped talking as another cat walked past him.  And then another.  

And then another.

“Welcome home,” Canada inched sheepishly downstairs with his hands clasped behind his back.  Prussia raised an eyebrow and dropped the bag on the countertop.  The cats twined around his feet.

“And since when did we have four cats…?”

Canada stepped closer and kissed him sweetly, innocently on the tip of his nose as a distraction.  It tickled.

“So, I may have, _accidentally_ ,” he stressed, “adopted five cats.”

Prussia frowned at him.

“Five cats…?”

Canada flushed and pulled a fifth, smaller black cat out from behind his back.

“Five,” he confirmed.  Prussia leaned into his personal space and squinted at the cat.  It started purring.

“How do you _accidentally_ adopt five cats?”

Canada began twisting back and forth and, oh, he was beautiful in his oversized cardigan and faded jeans.  His blonde curls cascaded in a mess around his face and his lips had been worried pink.  He grinned.

“I have a weakness for strays.”  He kissed him again, softly on the mouth, and then harder.  “I took you in, didn’t I?”

Prussia stroked the cat in his hands with a lopsided smile.

“I guess you did.”


	9. Chapter 9

****“I hope you know that my name is actually ________.”** **

Gilbert pushed off the counter and beamed as his favourite customer walked into the coffee shop with a certain level of trepidation.  His hands lingered on the door handle when he saw him.

“Hello!”  Gilbert crooned, waving, as he bumped his coworker from behind the cash register.  “Good evening!  Hi!”

The blonde flushed at his attention.

“Hi…”

He ordered a Grande Dark Roast with two shots of hazelnut in a soft, unsure voice that tugged on his heartstrings.  Gilbert reached for a cup and paused over it.  He had already written _‘Sweetcheeks’_ , _‘Honey Pie’_ , and _‘Darling’_ on his coffee this week.

Gilbert wrote _‘Hot Stuff’_ on this one.

And it paid off when he called out his order and the blonde flushed another shade darker.  He laughed as he handed over his coffee and dragged his fingers over his wrist.  

“I’m done at nine,” Gilbert winked.  “You know, if you’re free.”

“I, uh, uhm…”  

He stuttered for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, before squeaking and turning on his heel.  He rushed towards the overstuffed chair in the corner of the coffee shop, tripping over his untied laces, and ducked bashfully behind his textbooks.  

“Maybe tomorrow, then!”  Gilbert cupped his hands and called after him.  He squeaked again.

He was sooo cute.

He wore the same three sweaters over and over again with the mismatched socks and stained jeans of a college student.  His eyes were dark and bruised and his curls were a mess.  He drank too much coffee.  

Gilbert really, really liked him.  

He watched him shuffle through his notes over the subsequent hour, sneaking glances at Gilbert when he thought no one was looking, and it made him smile.  He felt like he was _finally_ making progress after weeks of pet names and pick up lines.

So he was understandably surprised when the blonde stuffed his homework into his backpack and dashed out of the coffee shop without cleaning up after himself.  He always threw out his trash.  Always.

Gilbert hopped the counter and cautiously approached the used cup like it was a trap.

And then he laughed.

The blonde had crossed off _‘ ~~Hot Stuff’~~_ and scribbled _‘I hope you know my name is actually Matthew’_ underneath with his telephone number in a looping, jumbled scrawl.  

“Finally!”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The artwork below was drawn by Maplevogel (http://maplevogel.tumblr.com) and included with her permission.

**“Please stop petting the test subjects.”**

** **

Gilbert tapped his pen impatiently against his clipboard as the other scientists walked the volunteers through the parameters of their experiment.  Blah, blah, potential risks, blah, variables, scientific process, blah, blah, blah.  It was a scripted speech.  

He studied the crowd as he mouthed the words.

And then he dropped his pen.

“Holy fucking shit.”

Roderich elbowed him and glowered as he hurried past in his own white, starched coat but Gilbert did not care.  He waved at one of the volunteers.  They waved back.

They were tall and broad shouldered but they slouched in their seat and seemed to curl in on themselves.  They looked shy.  Unsure.  They were handsome, though, with gentle eyes and a soft smile.  

And the fluffiest, flooffiest hair that Gilbert had ever seen.

“Can I…  Can I, like, touch your hair?”  He asked when the man approached afterwards for his medication.  He checked the clipboard for his name.  Matthew Williams.  “Maybe?”

The volunteer blinked at him.

“My…  Hair?”

Gilbert handed Matthew a sample of medication and marked down whether or not it was a placebo.

“It’s just so…  Flooffy.”

They scrutinized each other for another moment.

“I, uh, I guess you can.  If you want.”  Matthew said slowly, carefully.  “Is this part of the experiment…?”

Gilbert squealed as soon as he had permission and stood on his tiptoes to touch the top of his head.  It was just as soft and fluffy as he had imagined.  It was like a cloud.

“No.  No, this has nothing to do with that.  I just…  I had to know.”

“Oh…”  Matthew pulled anxiously on the sleeves of his sweater and tried to avoid eye contact.  Gilbert was leaning into his personal space with a blissed out expression on his face.  They were closer than they should have been.  “Okay, then.”

“It’s…”

His explanation was cut off when Roderich stormed up and smacked him upside the head with a rolled up questionnaire.

“ _Please_ ,” he hissed under his breath, “please stop _petting_ the test subjects.”

Gilbert just grinned sloppily and patted Matthew again.


	11. Chapter 11

**“That is the tenth demon summoning this week, holy shit.”**

Gilbert darted around the corner, sliding into Matthew, and flicked frantically through the old, oversized tome in his hands.  He was covered in paper cuts and his fingertips burnt as he turned the tattered pages.

“This is ridiculous,” he complained, wobbling.  Matthew set him back on his feet, dusted him off, and continued to reload his shotgun with calm nonchalance.  He had been dealing with the supernatural for several years.

Matthew nodded and snapped the barrels closed on the upswing.

“A little bit.”  He shrugged and punched a hole through the oozing, dripping mass across from them.  “Banishing spells are on page seventy nine, by the way.”

Gilbert flipped to the correct page and frowned at the cramped, scribbled notes.

“This is written in Latin.”

“Uh huh.”

“I can’t _read_ Latin,” he stressed.  Matthew rolled his eyes and shot another minor daemon with rosemary, sage, and rue as it scrambled overhead.  It exploded into rust and ash.

“Well, you’re going to have to learn.”  He reloaded again.  “And fast.”

Gilbert licked his lips and tried to sound it out.  One of the daemons turned, turned, and snapped its own neck to stare at him with unblinking eyes and a wide, gaping maw.  Shit.  He tried to read faster.

Matthew snorted and corrected his pronunciation as Gilbert stumbled over the lines.  He was almost…  Almost…  Done!

The daemons disappeared in a plume of pungent smoke.

“Holy shit!”  Gilbert raised his arms over his head and twirled around in a circle.  The office was a mess and the cubicles were folding in on themselves but at least the walls had stopped bleeding.  “Holy fucking shit!”  

Matthew smiled at him softly, fondly, and lowered his shotgun in increments.  He kept his finger on the trigger.

“That’s sort of the point.”

“That, that was the tenth daemon summoning this week!  Holy shit!”

“It’s good practice.”

Gilbert gestured with the tome.

“Is it always like this?”

“Not always,” he carded his left hand through his curls, “but…  Sometimes.  Are you sure you still want to do this?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!  That was _awesome_!  Let’s do it again!”

Matthew laughed.

“Okay.”


	12. Chapter 12

**"Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle."**

“Please.  Please put me down,” Matthew sighed, propping up his chin and digging his elbow into Gilbert’s back for good measure.  “It’s just a sprained ankle.”

Gilbert bounced him on his shoulder, knocking the air out of him, and slapped his ass.

“Nope,” he said, chuckling.  He had scooped Matthew up the moment he started limping and thrown him over his shoulder despite his kicking and squeals of embarrassment.  He had wrapped both of his arms around his thighs and nuzzled his backside.  “Not going to happen.”

“It doesn’t even hurt.”

“That’s because I’m carrying you.”

A handful of women walked past them on the sidewalk and giggled into their hands.  One of them waved at him.

“I can still walk,” Matthew complained.

“You _can_ ,” he agreed easily, nodding, “but you _won’t_.  I won’t let you.  You’ll just make it worse.  Now stop being such a big baby and let me freakin’ carry you.”

Matthew puffed out his cheeks and frowned.

“…  I don’t like you anymore.”

Gilbert snorted.

“Don’t lie.  You _love_ me.”

“You know, I don’t think I do,” he shrugged awkwardly.  “Not anymore.  You’re mean to me.”

“I am not.”

He pinched the back of his legs playfully and Matthew yelped.  He kicked out.

“You are too!”

Gilbert spun him around and almost smacked his head into the side of a brownstone building.

“I am not!”

They bickered all the way home.


End file.
